The Hotspur and the Lively
by kzal
Summary: In-canon, there's one time that Aubrey and Hornblower absolutely would have met: the Action of 5 October 1804, when the squadron under the command of Captain Moore captured the Spanish treasure fleet. Here, the two different stories merge.


_Author's Note: This came about when I first started reading C.S. Forster's Hornblower novels, having already read Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series, and discussed with a friend how it would be if they were to meet. It was only after spending some time analyzing this question that I realized that if both fictional worlds were to be considered true, they would have met, during the hunt for the Spanish treasure fleet, which is a real action called the "Action of 5 October 1804" (wiki that for more info). Hornblower should have been there in the _Hotspur_, and O'Brian placed his Captain Aubrey in temporary command of the _Lively_, one of the ships on the venture. Therefore, they would have met during the planning stages of the action. This is my attempt to describe how that meeting, and the subsequent action, might have gone. The action is described quite differently in the two books, so I have had to make some alterations, including but not limited to changing the order of the ships in the line, so that it is _Lively_ who is next to _Hotspur_ rather than _Medusa_. Also, all of Admiral Cornwallis' lines about the action itself and what they will be required to do have been taken directly from _Hornblower and the Hotspur_._

* * *

Jack Aubrey came easily over the side of the HMS _Hibernia_ to the sound of shrilling pipes, orders in his coat pocket and a smile on his face. The orders, as well as containing his appointment as captain of the _Lively_, had indicated this rendezvous, and that combined with some things Stephen had said and the whole process of coming out with the other frigates had convinced him that something was afoot, perhaps even something promising. Stephen himself followed, only just managing to avoid falling into the water during his long journey up the great ship's side. The officer on duty was the second lieutenant, a man unknown to Jack. He greeted them, then deputized a nearby midshipman to conduct Captain Aubrey and Dr. Maturin to the great-cabin, where Admiral Cornwallis was waiting for them, with Captain Moore of the _Indefatigable_ and Captain Sutton of the _Amphion_, who, being senior, had gone up the side before Jack, as well as another man he didn't know.

"Captain Aubrey!" exclaimed the Admiral, coming forward to shake his hand, "May I offer my congratulations on a promotion long overdue!"

"Thank you very kindly, sir," he said, taking the admiral's hand. "May I present my surgeon, Dr. Maturin?"

"Oh yes! The gentleman we were directed to listen to so particularly. And he's your surgeon?"

"Not only that, but a true physician! Not just some hack with a warrant from the Navy office. A true physician."

"Is he now?" The admiral paused, then indicated the others in the room. "I assume you have met Captains Sutton and Moore?"

"Yes, sir," said Stephen. "We all came out together from the—what was it called?"

"The Dodman, Stephen, the Dodman!" supplied Jack.

"The Dodman, yes, that's right."

"Very good, very good, and this," indicating the unknown man, "is my Flag Captain, Captain Collins." Stephen and Jack nodded, and the introduction was made. From on deck came the shrilling of pipes, as Captain Gore of the _Medusa_ came over the side and, in time, into the cabin.

"Very good," said the admiral. "Now we've just to wait for the commander of the _Hotspur_, and we'll be getting started."

"The _Hotspur_, sir?" Jack asked.

"Yes, a sloop of war attached to the squadron. She's been keeping the close watch on Breast, and a very good job she's done too. Her commander's name is Hornblower, perhaps you've heard of him?" Jack pondered a moment, and vaguely recalled that he might have read the name in the Gazette, something about an action in the West Indies just before the Peace, but he'd been so taken up with his own affairs since that time he'd scarcely thought of any sea-officer who wasn't immediately before him. He shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't recall anything in particular."

"It's no matter, he should be here presently. Please, sit." Jack did so, and as he lowered himself into a chair, the unmistakable bosun's call could be heard again as another captain was piped aboard. "That'll be Hornblower now."

Indeed it was. Jack looked up as the door opened, and observed a tall, rather thin man, perhaps a year or so younger than himself, who ducked under the door with the practiced ease developed by tall sailors but who then stopped just inside the room, looking grave, quiet, and rather reserved. He nodded briefly to Gore and Sutton, with whom he was acquainted, then directed his gaze to the admiral, who wasted no time in making the required introductions.

"Captains Moore and Aubrey, may I present Captain Hornblower, presently commanding HM Sloop _Hotspur_. Hornblower, this is Captain Moore of the _Indefatigable_, and Captain Aubrey, who is in command of the _Lively_ while Captain Hammond is ashore. And here," indicating Stephen, "is Dr. Maturin, who is here on diplomatic business." Hornblower nodded; while he knew of Captain Moore by reputation, having always kept up as well as he could with the command of the _Indy_, where he had served as midshipman, Captain Aubrey was entirely unknown, and he was unable to account for the doctor's being there at all. In what diplomatic business could a surgeon—or even a physician—be concerned? He frowned, and clenched his hands behind his back, unconsciously assuming the posture he most often assumed when pacing his quarterdeck, thinking.

"Please, sit," said the admiral, and Hornblower, thus saved from inattention—inattention to an admiral, how dare you? he berated himself—bent his long legs into the chair left for him next to Captain Moore. Admiral Cornwallis was not lax in explaining the situation: they were to confiscate the Spanish treasure fleet, carrying what amounted to some three million English pounds in gold, which would be returning from South America within the month, and take it to England, where the treasure was to be held against Spain's joining in the war on the side of France. Of course, the Spanish ships—frigates, they were told—would most likely put up a fight, but while unsure of his own merits even Hornblower was not so lacking in Navy pride as to doubt that four English frigates and his own sloop-of-war could board and carry three or four—or even five!—Spanish ships of similar size. Of course, resistance would mean battle, and that would mean war, but a poor and hostile Spain was better for Britain than a rich and neutral one. Spain was beholden to France by the terms of their last treaty, and a good deal of that Spanish coin coming over the sea would find its way into French coffers. In English hands, if they fought to get it and war was declared, those ships—and that gold—would be considered prizes. "Is the situation perfectly clear, now, gentleman?" There was a pause, as the captains considered the incredible fortune that had just been handed to them. With that much prize money, they could each live handsomely on the interest, buy an estate, do whatever they pleased! Hornblower had never been lucky in the matter of prize money; the only time he had ever come by a considerable sum—one hundred pounds as a lieutenant in the _Renown_—it had gone in one weekend with Bush, two ill-considered days and nights. As he pondered the possibilities of the sum he was in the way to receive, he was surprised and somewhat ashamed to feel a great swell of excitement at the thought of that much money in his pocket. The thought of spending as he wished, of not pinching pennies and stretching every last pound, of playing whist for enjoyment and not for profit, was all at once in his mind and quite overwhelming. He glanced at the other captains, to gauge their reactions to the news. Moore was staring at his admiral, incredulous and yet believing, as he must, that this news was sincere. Gore and Sutton simply looked thunderstruck. Aubrey—now his face was alight with a genuine smile, a smile both knowing and greedy. Here was a man to whom money meant much! But the Doctor—here was the peculiar thing. The Doctor looked neither surprised nor elated by how much they stood to gain. That was, perhaps, understandable, for as he was not a captain he would not have so large a share, but it was not to be assumed that he would not have been attached to this expedition had there not been some provision made for his recompense. No, even the ordinary seaman's share in this enterprise would be something to boast about, and the man was still unmoved; he must have had private intelligence of what was afoot. He let his mind follow the conversation back, through the admiral's description of what was to happen. Ah, yes, that was it, they were to attempt to negotiate, first, and that was where the Doctor was to serve, he was to negotiate if the Dons were amenable, unlikely as that situation might be.

"I see you all understand, gentlemen," said the admiral; all of Hornblower's observations had occurred in a matter of seconds. "Captain Moore will issue his orders to you to take effect in case of separation, and he will make his own plans to effect the interception. Captain Hornblower"—every eye turned to him—"will proceed immediately in _Hotspur_ to Cadiz to obtain the latest information from His Britannic Majesty's Consul there, before joining you at the position selected by Captain Moore. Captain Hornblower, will you be kind enough to stay behind after these gentlemen have left?" It was a dismissal, and the others filed out with Captain Collins, leaving Hornblower alone with his admiral.

* * *

Stephen was standing by the taffrail of the _Hibernia_, looking aft at the frigates drifting there, mind afloat as he waited for Jack to return with his orders from Captain Moore. The meeting had not gone badly; indeed, it could hardly have gone better. Not that he had expected trouble when so much wealth was at stake: the captains were eager to be away, asking questions later, Jack included. Though that could hardly be blamed, really, with all he'd been through financially in the past year. For himself, Stephen was still rather surprised at being given a captain's commission for this cruise, though he knew it to proceed partly from the desire of his superiors to force him to accept a reward for his work—a man who wanted nothing was a man who could not be controlled—and partly, he thought, from Sir Joseph's desire to help him out of esteem, or friendship. No. It would not do. He loathed the idea of being a paid agent and even friendship could not stand on real ground with a debt of several thousand pounds between them. If everything went as the Admiralty planned, he would find a way out of the money, or at least out of more than a Surgeon's share.

He became aware of a presence at his shoulder; it was not Jack, as Jack would never have approached so quietly. Turning his head ever so slightly, he saw that it was in fact the captain of the sloop _Hotspur_, Captain Hornblower. For several long moments, they were quiet. But Hornblower's patience exceeded Stephen's, and eventually Stephen spoke.

"So, sir, you are to go in to Cadiz."

"Those are my orders." He spoke stiffly, with a little bow, and there was silence again.

"Have you been previously in Spain?"

"I have. I was a prisoner there two years during the last war."

"You speak Spanish, then?"

"Passably, yes." There was nothing in his voice or manner to indicate exactly what he meant, but Stephen rather thought that Hornblower was likely to be more proficient than he let on.

"I see. And of course you will sail—"

"As soon as possible—I require only the coordinates of the rendezvous." At that moment, doors could be heard opening below them, and the sounds of laughter, capped off to Stephen's accustomed ear by Captain Aubrey's distinctive chortle. "That will be the other captains now," continued Hornblower. "You will excuse me." And with another slight bow, he was gone.

* * *

Evening, and the and the rendezvous.Jack was watching the _Amphion_, who was still in the process of sending up her topmasts after the blow that had separated them on the journey down. The _Hotspur_ had found them in the afternoon, and they waited only the _Indefatigable_ to begin their search.

"Sail ho!" the cry came down from the lookout in the foretop.

"Where away?" Jack's reply was automatic.

"Fine on the larboard beam, sir."

"You," said Jack, to the midshipman of the watch, "go up and see what you make of her."

"It's the _Indy_, sir," came the cry a few minutes later. "I can see the Commodore's pennant."

"Very good." And indeed she was coming up quickly, all sails abroad; she was topsails up from the deck and growing fast. Once they were all together, Moore signaled for the other captains to come aboard for their final orders. The plan was not elaborate: they would stand on and off this position, sailing towards America during the day and back to the Continent at night. The _Indefatigable _would sail right along the latitude of Cadiz, where the Spanish ships were likely to be sailing, unable to be sure of their longitude after so many days on the open sea. To the south would be the _Amphion _and then the _Medusa_, sailing as far apart as possible while keeping each other in sight. To the north would be the _Lively_, and then the _Hotspur_. A special signal was arranged for the sighting of the treasure fleet, flags by day and rockets by night. After that there was little to do but stand off and on; the fleet would come—or not—in its own time.

It was just before dawn on the second day that the signal came: "Commodore to all ships. Wear ship. Course west. Topsails." A midshipman was sent down to wake Jack, who was on deck in an instant, clad only in his nightshirt.

"Repeat the signal for _Hotspur_, please. And call all hands."

"_Hotspur_ acknowledges, sir."

All hands were soon enough at their stations, and when the signal aboard the _Indefatigable_ dropped—this indicated they were to carry out the orders it contained—the _Lively _wore round onto her new course, setting more sail to close with the approaching Spanish fleet.

"Send the men to breakfast, Mr. Simmons," he said to the _Lively_'s first lieutenant. "Then I believe we may beat to quarters."

"On deck!" hailed the lookout in the maintop. "The _Hotspur_ hasn't changed course, sir!"

Jack swung round his gaze to the position where the _Hotspur_ should have been, a few points aft of the starboard beam now they were sailing west and a little south. She was farther aft then she should have been, holding to her original course and disappearing fast now that the _Lively_ was sailing in the opposite direction. "What the devil does that Hornblower mean, sailing away like that?" he wondered. Already she was almost out of sight; only a spot of white could be seen from the quarterdeck. Jack peered after her, trying to follow her course, but he blinked and she was gone.

"Take the best glass and find out what's going on," Jack ordered, indicating a nearby midshipman.

"Aye-aye, sir." And he scampered up the mizzenshrouds as fast as he could. "She's barely visible even here, sir," he hailed down a moment later. "But I think she may be signaling."

"Can you make it out?"

"No, sir, she's gone."

"Very well, you may come down. And someone wake the doctor."

* * *

The thing was done, the Spanish had fought, one of their ships—the _Mercedes_—had blown sky-high but the other three had been taken in to Plymouth. The treasure had been unloaded and _Lively_ was spending a few days at anchor, refitting and allowing the men a bit of shore leave. Jack was pacing the quarterdeck, half attending to the men loading barrels in the waist, when he noticed a sloop, a familiar-looking sloop, glide in and anchor in the harbor. "Why, it's the _Hotspur_," he said to himself. "Where's she been all this time, I wonder? Did he get himself lost?" Jack watched with vague disapproval as _Hotspur_'s commander went over the side into his gig, which pulled away quickly towards the docks. "Still, she looks quite clawed. Was he in some sort of battle?" And indeed, the _Hotspur_ looked quite different then when he'd last seen her. Her mainyard was fished with what looked like a pair of stuntsail booms, a few of her gunports had been smashed into one, and as she swung at her anchor he saw two great holes in her stern, though their size, placement, and distance above the waterline made him think that they may have been deliberately cut rather than inflicted by an enemy. "And why would he do a thing like that?"

But he forgot about it fast enough, with all he had to do for the _Lively_, until the next week when the Gazette came out and he read the account of what Hornblower had actually been doing while they had captured the treasure fleet. "Fighting a French frigate, is that it? Biting off a bit more than he can chew in that little sloop." But privately, Jack was impressed. While it didn't have quite the extreme difference in scope as his own action with the _Cacafuego_, and of course Hornblower hadn't actually taken his Frenchman, he found he could consider this action with a real sense of Navy pride. Exactly what he should've done, really. Probably had saved the fleet! Jack paused for a moment. What would he have done, in Hornblower's place? A frigate on one hand, but all that prize money on the other; many a captain would have turned his back on the frigate to follow the prize. In fact—and here was a difficult point—he found he didn't quite know himself what he would've done. But it wasn't worth thinking about—he shook himself free of the thought with a twist of his head. Of course he would have done his duty. He thought briefly of finding out Hornblower's lodgings, of going to call, of congratulating him, but soon enough the business of shore, and Sophie, and his ship caught up to him, and in the end he merely resolved to mention the action with praise, if ever they met again, and from there he put the matter completely out of his mind.


End file.
